


When I Am King

by justhush (fragilehuge)



Series: When I Am King [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Gen, Pre-Slash, also this first part is gen but the second part of this story is merlin/arthur, but Merlin is a sex slave so there are allusions to past abuse, there's no on-screen rape or non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-26 08:51:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6232282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fragilehuge/pseuds/justhush
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When he protested before, Uther only blinked and said, "They were sold by their families, Arthur. It's unfortunate that there are people that poor, and I do everything in my power to help them, but the fact is that not everyone can be saved."</p><div>
  <p>"They're still people," Arthur insisted. "They're not just -- repayments of <em>debt</em>."</p>
  <p>Uther stared Arthur down. "I will not have you impregnating the young women of the court. You can choose who you'd like, but you <em>will</em> choose someone."</p>
</div>
            </blockquote>





	When I Am King

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted in 2010. 
> 
> Original author's notes:
> 
> Warnings: allusions to past rape, abuse. Sex slaves. Looked over by restless_jedi. Remaining mistakes are my own (please point them out!)

Arthur hates his father.

"Is there one in particular that you want?" Uther asks.

 _None of them_ , Arthur thinks. He wishes he could explain that to his father, though. When he protested before, Uther only blinked and said, "They were sold by their families, Arthur. It's unfortunate that there are people that poor, and I do everything in my power to help them, but the fact is that not everyone can be saved." 

"They're still people," Arthur insisted. "They're not just -- repayments of _debt_."

Uther stared Arthur down. "I will not have you impregnating the daughters of the court. You can choose who you'd like, but you _will_ choose someone."

Arthur pressed his mouth into a thin line. _Things will be different_ , he thought, _when I am king_.

"These here are the best I have available," the merchant, Deidrich, says, "Unspoilt, if you know what I mean."

He grins, and it makes Arthur feel sick to his stomach. There are three men and three women kneeling on the ground in front of him and Uther. Their arms are tied behind their backs, and they aren't wearing any clothing. They're all staring up at Arthur, as instructed, and he doesn't know if their eyes are saying _Please, save me_ or _Please, god, don't pick me._ The merchants are set up in a little clearing, and there are carts scattered around--most of have a little barred window on the side, and Arthur can see dirty hands wrapped around the metal.

One of the women in front of Arthur--a girl with red hair and pale, freckled skin--lets her head droop forward. She looks so, so tired, and Arthur can tell that the position isn't comfortable.

"Stupid bitch," Deidrich mutters, and kicks her in the side. "Keep your head up."

Arthur wants to pick her just to take her away from all of this. He's about to tell his father that--she's pretty enough, Uther wouldn't blink at his choice--when he hears someone yelling. A man runs across the field, toward Arthur, and all he catches before the man runs past is how dark his hair is, and that he's naked except for the ropes binding his wrists. There are four men running after him, and a few others yelling for help from further away. Deidrich is already running. The man doesn't get much further before Deidrich pummels him, knocking him to the ground.

Two other men catch up to the pair a moment later and yank the dark haired man to his feet.

"Thought you could get away, yeah?" one them asks dangerously. "We'll make sure you never try that again."

Deidrich notices he's ripped his shirt stopping the man (or maybe it was already ripped, and he's just noticing now) and pushes him so hard that the man falls to his knees.

"Look what you did," he says, shoving his sleeve in the guy's face. He slaps the guy across the face, hard enough that Arthur can hear it. "You worthless whore. Get the fuck up." He grabs the guy by the rope around his wrists and yanks him forward, so hard that he doesn't have a chance to stand up, can only stumble forward on his knees. Deidrich keeps pulling him forward, yelling now and again for him to get up, but he isn't giving the guy a _chance_ to stand, just dragging him across the ground and laughing when he stumbles.

Arthur cannot bear to see this.

"I want him," he says.

Uther blinks. "Who? The runaway?"

"Yeah," Arthur says. "Deidrich! How much is he?"

Deidrich stops, obviously confused, and the man scrambles to his feet. His knees are scraped raw and bleeding. Arthur can't stop staring; the man is startlingly pale everywhere but his knees and his wrists and his cheeks.

"Sir," Deidrich says. He furrows his brows. "This one... He's not. Suitable, for a man like you."

Arthur pulls himself up to his full height. "He's the one I want."

"He's, uhm." Deidrich looks at the man, then back at Arthur. "He's been... previously owned, and he's a bit of a discipline problem, as you can see. Can I interest you in someone else?"

"No," Arthur says, and looks at his father for backup. Uther nods, albeit looking a little confused by Arthur's choice.

"That's the one he wants."

Deidrich looks disappointed, but he nods, not about to argue with the king.

"Looks like you caught someone's eye," Deidrich mutters nastily, pushing the man forward, rougher than Arthur is altogether comfortable with.

"Give me him," he says, before he can think about it. Deidrich hands over the ropes.

"You've got to hold onto him," he says. "He's a bit - feisty." Something about his tone tells Arthur that Deidrich isn't just talking about the ropes.

-

Deidrich says the man's name is Emrys. Arthur gets warned to be firm with him, because he has a nasty habit of pushing boundaries to see what he can get away with. Arthur isn't comfortable with talking about Emrys--a grown man--like he's a small child or a _dog,_ but he isn't in the mood to try and convince a _slave trader_ that he should treat his merchandise like humans. Arthur just nods and extracts himself from the conversation as quickly as possible.

When they get back to the castle, Arthur takes Emrys up to his chambers. Emrys kneels beside Arthur's bed without a word, bowing his head. Arthur stares at the top of his head for a while, trying to figure out some way to respond.

Finally, he says, "Come on, get up then."

Emrys glances up, eyes guarded, but stands anyway. His gaze makes Arthur vaguely uncomfortable. Arthur isn't used to not being trusted. Neither of them say anything for a long moment.

"Can you _speak_?" Arthur asks incredulously.

Emrys' gaze darkens. "Yes," he says. His tone is just barely insolent. Arthur frowns. No one ever speaks to him that way.

"Well." Somewhat at a loss, Arthur crosses his arms. Emrys is still looking at him, and its making him feel vaguely self conscious. And that just makes Arthur annoyed--Emrys is just a servant. He's Arthur's property, and his property shouldn't be--judging him.

Emrys smiles. It isn't a nice one. "Well?" he prompts. "Something you need, _sire_?"

"You insolent prat," Arthur says, more dangerously than he means it. When he takes a step forward, Emrys flinches. He _flinches_.

Arthur stares.

"I am not--" He feels like a monster. "I am not going to hit you."

Emrys' lips are pressed into a thin line. He still looks afraid. Arthur isn't going to hit him. He would _never_ hit someone who couldn't defend himself. If Emrys were so much as to make a threatening _gesture_ toward Arthur, he would be put to death.

  
_It's bad enough_ , Arthur thinks, _that the castle servants barely make eye contact with me_. At least they aren't afraid. At least they don't think Arthur is going to _rape_ them. He's never wanted a whore, and just because he's an _adult_ now and that is apparently what royalty want when they're adults--He doesn't. He doesn't want to be the type of king that uses his people for his own pleasure.

"You'll be staying with our physician for the time being," he says. Not that Gaius knows that, yet, but it's the only person Arthur can think of who'll know what to do. "I need a manservant, Emrys, not a mistress."

"My name isn't Emrys," the man says sharply. His whole body reacts, and his voice breaks on _isn't_. Arthur's chest hurts thinking about what that name must mean to cause that reaction. The man--Arthur doesn't know what to call him now--flinches again (Arthur _isn't_ \--He _wouldn't_ \--). He sounds scared when he says, "I'm sorry, master, call me whatever you like."

Arthur is still thinking, _I wouldn't--I'm not--I'm not going to hit you_. He wants to shout it until the man believes him. That probably wouldn't make things any better.

"I'm not your master," Arthur says, because it's the most important thing. "I have no desire to be. Just call me Arthur."

He doesn't want to know what the man thinks he's going to do. Arthur mutters, "I don't know what else to call you."

"Call me whatever you'd like," the man says automatically. Arthur just looks at him, trying to look plaintively incredulous and not like someone inclined to physical violence. It takes the man a moment, but eventually some of the terror leaves his eyes. "My name is Merlin."

Uther's greatest flaw, Arthur decides, is that he's defeated before he even begins. Even if he was right--maybe it's true that not everyone can be saved--Arthur wants to spend his life trying to prove the opposite. Even if he has to save everyone one damn person at a time.

"Alright, Merlin," Arthur begins, careful when he says the name. "The man you'll be staying with--Gauis--has been muttering that he needs an extra pair of hands. I think he's been longing for an apprentice."

Merlin stares, eyes wide, disbelieving. His mouth is open slightly, but he doesn't say anything. His obvious speechlessness makes Arthur a little uncomfortable, so by way of explanation, he mutters, "My father and I, um, share very different views on property."

Merlin seems to understand all of what such a diplomatic statement implies.


End file.
